


Heroes Never Diet

by premature_assassination



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Food as a Metaphor for Love, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Weight Gain, feederism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-16 21:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14819427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/premature_assassination/pseuds/premature_assassination
Summary: An injured Jesse is taken in and cared for by Zenyatta. The two develop a strong connection through a shared love of food.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softmccree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softmccree/gifts), [starflaik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starflaik/gifts).



McCree dragged his feet through the snow, small clouds forming in the air with each labored breath he took. Internally, he began dissecting his situation even as more snow floated down from the sky.

He found himself in a small mountain village in the middle of the night, for lack of better words, up shit creek with no paddle. One of many bounty hunters no doubt on his trail had confronted him further below in Nepal’s foothills and forests.

Jesse McCree didn’t like to shoot unless absolutely necessary. Now he regretted putting a bullet in the man’s leg, but it seemed a fair trade for the shot he fired into Jesse’s shoulder. Neither man would die today, but McCree could definitely feel himself fading. Coupled with lack of sleep and food for the past several days, the blood loss and cold were draining him.

He grit his teeth against the freezing air and pain in his upper arm. Lamps were dimmed in the little town, no one to come to his aid. Weakened by hunger, fatigue, and his injury, he stumbled into a space between buildings where the biting wind could not reach him. He leaned against a wall and lowered himself on shaking legs to the frosty ground.

The climb up the mountain had exhausted him. In his mind, he knew it was dangerous to fall asleep, maybe even fatal, but he found he could no longer keep his eyes open. Gripping his wounded shoulder tightly to help stem the bleeding, he lay on his side, wrapped tightly in his serape.

Before losing consciousness, he thought he saw a golden glow illuminate the alleyway. Warmth suddenly enveloped his body, gentle, comforting, protective. He did not see its source.

\----

Waking up felt like swimming to the surface of a lake for air - slow, disorienting. His vision was muddy at first and breathing was painful, but as he came around, McCree groggily inspected his surroundings.

He was no longer outside. Instead of swirling snow, the room he was in was bathed in the soft, crackling light of a flame. He was in a small bed with several thick quilts covering him. Jesse could tell by the way the fabric felt on his skin that he no longer wore his cape, armor, or shirt. Instead, he could feel the comfortably tight grip of bandages wrapped about his left shoulder and arm.

"You are awake. That is good," a voice addressed him. It was calm and almost musical, but held a distorted quality, as if synthetic.

Jesse turned his head to see a man enter from an adjoining room. His fuzzy brain took a moment to work out that the man had metal skin and hovered nearly 3 feet above the ground. An omnic.

The wounded cowboy tried his best to sit up, but the effort hurt too much. He barely propped himself up on his uninjured arm.

"I would recommend you do not overexert yourself," the omnic said, gliding a bit closer. "You are safe here. You may rest."  
His voice was gentle with no hint of malice that McCree could discern. Maybe it was a mistake, but he trusted this robot.

"Tell me yer name," Jesse said gruffly.  
“I am called Zenyatta," the omnic replied evenly.  
Jesse nodded and settled back into the welcoming embrace of the bed and blankets.  
"Name's McCree," he said before closing his eyes once more.

As he drifted into sleep, he heard the metal man say, "It is good to meet you, McCree."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing into part 2, McCree properly meets his rescuer, and gets his first taste of Zen’s cooking.

The next time Jesse woke, sunlight lit the room and the fire had died down to only embers. He was reluctant to leave the warmth and security of the quilts, but he struggled into a sitting position nonetheless.

The cowboy scanned the room - stone walls with the fireplace seemingly carved into one; a couple of small windows featuring round panes of glass (he could see the snow and mountains outside); the small, low-sitting bed he lay in and an equally small, low table nearby where he was relieved to see his hat and holster sitting.

There was an archway leading into the home’s second room, where he could hear movement, clinking, humming.

McCree hissed through his teeth and carefully settled against the pillows when pain bloomed in his shoulder. A minute later, the omnic from the night before glided into the room. Zenyatta, the house’s owner.

“Good morning, McCree,” he said jovially. “I hope you slept well.”  
After noticing Jesse’s clenched teeth and rigid posture however, his synthetic voice took on a concerned tone. “Are you in pain?”

“Just sore,” Jesse groaned. “You did a helluva job patchin’ this up.”  
“I am lucky to have had some training in the medicinal arts,” Zenyatta replied, floating beside the bed. “The bullet was difficult to remove. I’m afraid I may have caused some damage to your skin. We will also need to freshen the bandages when you feel up to the task.”

While he spoke, McCree looked the robot over, seeing details now he’d missed in the dark of night with his mind foggy from pain and exhaustion. There were nine metal spheres circling around him. Each shifted and pulsated, a soft white-blue glow creeping out of the joints between plates. Jesse also noticed that Zenyatta was clothed in only some tattered looking trousers. From his waist hung a string of beads bearing a talisman with the mark of the Iris on it.

“Yer one’a them monks,” Jesse commented. “Shoot, didn’t realize I’d been saved by a holy man.”  
“I would not call myself as such,” Zenyatta chuckled but the sound held little humor. “As for saving you, it is simply my duty and pleasure to help those in need.”  
“Well, I appreciate it either way,” Jesse smiled, the expression faltering as his wound flared up again.

“This will help,” the omnic said, and McCree watched as he took one of the globes in his palm, now emitting golden light, and let it gently float toward the bed. It hovered over McCree, washing him with that same gentle warmth he’d felt in the alley.

Jesse relaxed, letting the orb numb the ache in his shoulder. Without the pain to distract him, he shivered. Even indoors the mountain range held them in an icy grip.  
“Ah. One moment,” Zenyatta said and he floated back into the adjacent room. When he returned a few minutes later, he brought Jesse a mug of hot tea. The cowboy took it gratefully, letting it warm his hands first.

Truth be told, he was never a big fan of tea, but McCree took a sip, letting it warm him inside. But as the liquid settled into his stomach, it unleashed an awful groan, finally giving voice to the hunger that had taken hold if it. 

Jesse’s metal hand shot straight to his belly, clutching as if to quiet it.  
“You are hungry,” Zenyatta guessed.  
“Well...” Jesse said sheepishly, “Somethin’ a lil more filling than tea might be good, yeah...”  
“I would be happy to make something for you,” the omnic said. His voice was bright and McCree imagined if he’d possessed a mouth he would have smiled. “Allow me some time, and I will prepare supper.”

The word confused McCree for a moment - ‘supper’ - but when he looked up out of one of the windows, he could see the sun was actually lazing to the west. He’d slept the entire day and now it was well into the afternoon.

He remained in bed however; his mind wasn’t so cloudy anymore but his body still felt weak. In the meantime, he sipped the tea and tried not to think about the hunger clawing at his belly.  
He hadn’t realized it until food became a possibility, but he was starving. Days on the run didn’t offer much in the way of healthy meals, after all.

His stomach rumbled impatiently while Zenyatta worked in the next room. By now, Jesse had deduced it must be a kitchen. The smell that flowed in to where he rested wasn’t helping; he could feel his mouth watering.

The sun was sinking further and the little home growing dim when Zenyatta returned to Jesse and handed him a steaming bowl and a spoon. He dug in without a second thought.  
What the omnic brought him was a type of sausage stew with thick chunks of meat. It was seasoned with several spices, flavorful and biting. McCree began devouring it greedily.

“Take caution,” Zenyatta said gently, “You do not want to choke.”  
Jesse was already slurping the last of the broth from the bowl, some of it dripping into his beard. With the last drop swallowed, he looked up at Zenyatta and asked, “You made that?”  
“Yes,” he answered, “Although I worked somewhat hastily. I hope it was still enjoyable.”  
Jesse snorted. “It was damn near the best thing I ever tasted!”

“There is more, if you wish,” Zenyatta told him.  
“Heck yeah,” Jesse held the bowl up and grinned, “As long as yer offerin’!”  
The omnic refilled the bowl and watched the cowboy take a few more bites before hovering toward the fireplace to coax the flames back to life.

“Did you only make this fer me?” Jesse asked. “I mean, can you uh... can omnics... do you eat?”  
“I do not,” Zenyatta responded. “But I greatly enjoy cooking. It requires knowledge, creativity, and patience.”  
“But then what d’ya do with the food you make?”  
“Humans both require and seem to enjoy a great variety of meals. I often give food to the villagers, or travelers, or even trade for items and ingredients I need.”

“You should set up shop,” Jesse said, gulping another mouthful of stew. “You’d sell outta this in an hour.”  
Zenyatta laughed again, a tinny sound but much more joyous than the chuckle McCree had heard before.  
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I am happier just knowing people enjoy my cooking.”

The two chatted like this for some time. Jesse went through six bowls of stew before deciding he’d had enough. His stomach felt tight, but it was nice to go to bed full for a change.  
As his meal digested, he could feel himself getting sleepy again. He sighed and settled back into bed. Zenyatta pulled the blankets up to cover the wounded man and bid him good night.

McCree fell asleep with the taste of that delicious soup on his tongue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has a kinda slow beginning, but I’m giving Jesse a bit of time to recover first.

In the morning, Jesse woke to the sounds of Zenyatta in the kitchen again. He could hear a soft bubbling and smell fresh bread. The omnic was humming a quiet tune. In a few minutes, he floated into the room carrying a wooden tray with him.

“Good morning, McCree,” he greeted Jesse. “How are you feeling today?”  
“Doin’ a lot better, Zenyatta, thank you,” Jesse dipped his head and smiled.  
“I am glad,” the omnic said, and he presented the tray to McCree. “I have made you some breakfast.”

Jesse looked at the bowl of rice porridge, fried egg, and buttered slices of toast and his grin widened.  
“Heck, yer gonna spoil me with all these fancy meals,” he chuckled, picking up a spoon to dig in.  
“It is no trouble,” Zenyatta assured him. 

While McCree ate, he asked Zenyatta questions about himself and the area. The robot informed him that the home they currently occupied was often used by hunters and woodcutters. It sat a little further up the mountain from the village he’d found Jesse in, and the monastery where the omnic usually resided was higher still. Zenyatta was currently on a sabbatical, a bit like a retreat from his brothers and the holy site so he could cleanse his mind and refresh.

The little stone house lacked luxuries but had everything travelers and vacationing monks would need; the bed and table, a kitchen with a wood stove and small ice box, the fireplace, an outhouse. Zenyatta also told him there were hotsprings nearby, and Jesse thought a good, hot bath sounded like heaven.

Zenyatta brought McCree a mug of hot tea after breakfast, and hovered nearby with some cloth bandages and other supplies in hand.  
“I would like to replace the dressings on your injury if you are feeling up to it,” he said.  
Jesse nodded and sat up a bit straighter. He set the tea aside and pushed the quilts off of himself.

With his entire upper body bared, Zenyatta lent the man one of his healing orbs and set to work removing the bloodied bandages from his arm. The skin underneath was torn and heavily bruised around the area the bullet had entered, but it seemed like a clean shot - the bullet hadn’t splintered, leaving one large wound instead of many.  
Jesse’s arm and shoulder were still sore from the impact and even with the golden glow pulsating above him, he could feel the ache. He could tell already it’d leave a scar.

Zenyatta set the soiled bandages aside and began to gently clean the wound with a warm, wet towel. While McCree inspected the damage, Zenyatta looked over his body. The cowboy had a myriad of other scars etched in his dark, hair-covered skin. The muscles in his arms and chest would suggest he’d been well toned once, but he seemed terribly underweight now. Much too thin for his age and his height, Zenyatta observed.

The omnic dried McCree’s arm and wrapped it with fresh bandages. The orb returned to its owner as Jesse settled down again. Zenyatta insisted he rest for the day.  
The next morning, Jesse was pleasantly surprised to find two fried eggs and twice the helping of rice porridge on his tray.

\----

Another day passed before Jesse felt strong enough to climb out of bed. His shoulder still hurt, but it didn’t sap his strength like before. He joined Zenyatta in the kitchen that morning and watched him make breakfast.  
The omnic always hummed while he was cooking. Jesse liked this very human trait.

After the meal, Jesse asked about the hot springs Zenyatta had mentioned.  
“Feel like I could stand to get cleaned up a bit,” he said.  
“Of course,” Zenyatta said. He fetched several clean towels and placed them in a basket along with a bar of soap and McCree’s shirt - he had already cleaned it while the man was recovering.

Jesse wrapped himself up in his serape and followed the omnic outside. Zenyatta glided up a rocky trail and into the snow covered woods with McCree close behind. The day was bright and the wind dormant, but still, Jesse couldn’t wait to get into that hot water.

They arrived at a small collection of pools, steam and bubbles boiling on their surface. It was beautiful, like something out of a painting. Jesse was glad to see it looked nearly untouched - certainly not a tourist spot exploited by the masses.

“Do you require any assistance?” Zenyatta asked him as he set the basket down.  
“Naw, think I can manage,” Jesse said. “But thanks.”  
The robot nodded. He said, “I will return in an hour to lead you back.”  
“Sounds good,” McCree agreed.

He watched Zenyatta float back toward the house and then shed his poncho and undressed. He shivered in the mountain air for a moment before setting to work. He scrubbed his clothes and then his body with the soap, rinsed the garments clean and hung them from a nearby branch before slipping into the water himself.  
The heat bit his skin, painful at first but so welcome as he adjusted to it. He washed the soap off, lathered up his unruly brown hair and rinsed it, gave himself another scrub down, and then sat along the edge of the pool. The water reached his shoulders, warming and relaxing his tired body. Weeks of grime just soaked away.

He was careful to keep his injured arm out of the spring though, and once he had it settled on the rim, Jesse lay his head back and released a long sigh.  
He hadn’t felt content like this in a long time. A couple good night’s sleep, few decent meals, and a hot bath could work wonders.  
He was reluctant to leave when Zenyatta came back to get him.

The cowboy quickly got dressed and followed his host back down the trail. When they reached the house, Zenyatta said he planned to visit the village to get supplies. Jesse felt energized after his visit to the hot spring, so he offered to come along.  
“I’ll take it easy, don’t worry,” he added. “Just gettin’ a little tired of bein’ in bed.”  
“Understandable,” Zenyatta agreed. “But please, let me know if you begin to feel pain or fatigue. Your wound is still healing.”  
“Gotcha,” McCree nodded.

Jesse grabbed his serape off the bed and threw it over his shoulders, and lifted his hat from the table to its perch on his shaggy head. He hesitated to pick up Peacekeeper though; he suddenly wondered what the monk must think of the gun and why Jesse carried it.

But Zenyatta said nothing as McCree put the holster in its place, and the two stepped out into the snowy air once again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gives McCree a chance to get to know the area, and for him and Zen to talk a bit, /and/ get introduced to some local cuisine.

In the light of day, Jesse saw the small town he’d stumbled into in a new way. People and omnics bustled about between clay-brick buildings, bright scraps of woven fabric hanging in windows and on walls. Snow covered the ground and piled up against homes and market stalls. Jesse could swear they passed the alley he’d taken refuge in a few nights ago.

Zenyatta spoke easily with everyone they met - shopkeepers, people on the street. His buoyant personality drew them in.  
They spent quite some time with a local physician, who spoke with Zenyatta about herbal remedies and acupuncture techniques. He gave them a salve to help treat Jesse’s wound.  
While trading with farmers for some produce, the omnic asked many questions and received animated responses about their work.

Zenyatta was just fascinated with humans and their lives, and always wanted to learn more. In that curiosity Jesse saw more than a simple robot.

McCree would smile and tip his hat to those they passed. He noticed humans and omnics seemed to be in equal population here, but there was none of the tension between them that he was used to seeing in other cities. He felt at ease here. But still, he felt the weight of the gun at his hip, especially when Zen casually asked what had brought Jesse to the village in the first place.

“Uh, ya know,” McCree shrugged, “Been travelin’, mostly admirin’ the scenery. Just passin’ through this area, is all.”  
He thought he sounded dishonest, but Zen didn’t pry. He took the answer on its face and even agreed that the mountains offered a unique and beautiful view.

Eventually Zenyatta said, “What types of foods do you enjoy, McCree?”  
“Well, heck, I’ll eat anything you make, that’s for sure,” Jesse answered.  
Zen chuckled but shook his head. “But I want to cook things you are familiar with as well. I would like to learn.”  
“Gee, I dunno,” the cowboy thought for a minute. “I mean, I love a good steak. And barbecue. Just about anythin’ with cheese. And potatoes! You can do all kinds of stuff with potatoes!”

Zenyatta began to sort through recipes he had archived while McCree kept talking, noting things the man had a particular taste for.  
“Pasta’s always good,” Jesse added, “Or some real homemade enchiladas. Aw, and I’m a sucker fer fresh baked pies and the like... man, all this food talk’s got me hungry now...”

“I know of a place we could stop for dinner,” Zen said cheerfully. “It has many local dishes that I am still trying to perfect. I believe you would like some of them.”  
“Well, sure,” Jesse said. “Long as you don’t mind, seein’ as you won’t be dinin’ with me.”  
“It is fine,” the omnic assured him. “You can share your thoughts about the food with me so that I may learn.”

McCree couldn’t argue with that. He followed the monk to a low building with narrow slits for windows. There was a step down upon entering - Jesse nearly tripped since his companion’s movement gave no indication of it.  
There were short tables like the one in the house up the mountain and cushions set around them for patrons to sit. The room was warm and smelled heavily of spices from the kitchen.

Jesse realized Zen would have to relay his order to their waiter, since the cowboy didn’t know any of the language of Nepal. After having Zenyatta explain a few of the menu items to him, McCree decided on the curry.  
The plate he was served held a generous portion of potatoes, carrots, peppers, and buffalo meat in a thin, seasoned sauce that was easily soaked up by the light, flaky bits of rice that accompanied it.

Zenyatta watched Jesse stuff forkfuls into his mouth eagerly. He couldn’t help a satisfied hum when the cowboy ordered a second helping. He listened to the man’s comments as well - maybe a thicker sauce? Spices are perfect, blended but distinguishable. Meat nice and tender. Potatoes could be a little more done.

After finishing, McCree leaned back and happily patted his belly. Zenyatta silently hoped a few meals like this would help the man fill out a bit.

The pair returned to the house before it could get dark outside. Zen busied himself with properly storing the items they bought. It was about ten or fifteen minutes after they’d returned when he heard Jesse groan the first time.  
Hovering into the main room, the omnic asked, “McCree? Are you alright?”  
“Ugh, yeah, just...” Jesse gulped thickly as he spoke, “Suddenly feelin’ -hic- a lot more full than I was...”

Zenyatta took in the scene before him - Jesse resting against the pillows on the bed, his expression pained as he slowly rubbed his stomach, which had swelled up like a balloon. He’d undone his belt and pants to try and relieve some of the pressure on his bloated tummy. Zen quickly realized what had happened.

“You ate too much,” he said softly.  
“I didn’t think it was that much...” McCree mumbled, sounding slightly embarrassed, and pausing to hiccup again.  
“No, specifically the chiura,” the monk explained. “The dry rice served with the curry. It is flattened to preserve it longer, but can expand once inside a human stomach.”  
“Now ya -hic- tell me,” Jesse groaned. His tummy gurgled with displeasure.

“I am sorry,” Zenyatta said sincerely. “It can leave you feeling overly full, but it should pass within a short time.”  
McCree took a short breath in through his teeth, a hiccup at the end. “Sounds like a good time for a nap then," he said.  
Zenyatta made sure his companion was comfortable and advised him to call out if he needed anything before returning to his task.

Jesse groaned now and again as his rounded stomach began to settle. Soon the pain eased enough for him to drift into a light sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a very short in-between chapter before we go to the next bit of kink-related content.

Jesse woke from his nap a couple of hours later, slowly stretching out after being curled on his side. He rolled onto his back and very gently placed his flesh hand on his stomach. It still felt puffy after being bloated by the rice, but the taut skin was beginning to relax. The ache was fading.

The cowboy heaved a sigh and glanced up to see Zenyatta hovering near the fireplace. A small flame had been kindled, and the omnic floated much closer to the ground now than McCree had seen before. The nine points of light on his metal face were dimmed, the orbs lazily circling his shoulders.

Jesse wondered if Zen was asleep. He also wondered if his presence here meant Zen did not get to sleep in his own bed. As he began to stir, Zenyatta’s lights brightened and he turned toward the man.  
“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” Jesse said.  
“Oh. Do not worry. Omnics do not sleep,” Zenyatta assured him. “I do, however, spend a large amount of time in meditation. Some of my tertiary functions are shut down during this time, which I suppose could give the outward appearance of sleep.”

McCree was still a little too sleepy to fully wrap his head around this, but he said, “Hope I didn’t disturb that then. But what’s shuttin’ down parts’a yerself do?”  
“It allows me time to calm my mind and reorganize my thoughts,” Zen said. “It helps me to focus, conserves energy, and - I believe - brings me closer to the Iris.”  
“Genji used to talk about that kinda thing,” Jesse said, mostly to himself. “Not sure he did much of it himself though.”

“Shimada Genji?” Zenyatta’s synthetic vocal tone rose just a bit when he said the name.  
McCree frowned.  
“Well, yeah,” he said. “But how’na hell would you...?”  
“He was a student of mine for some time,” Zen said, fondness warming his voice. “Very troubled when he first came to me at the monastery. Perhaps not physically hurt as you were, but deeply wounded inside.”

“Yeah,” Jesse felt a smile tug at his lips, “Sounds like Genj. He was a good friend of mine back in... uh, awhile back. Was he a lil spitfire for you all too?”  
“For a while,” Zenyatta emitted that tinny chuckle.

McCree found himself almost painfully happy to know the cyborg was alive and well in the world. The two talked about Genji and other friends, new and old, as the night wore on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going into one of my favorite tropes now, Jesse will help Zen out in the kitchen by being his official taste-tester~

Jesse whistled as he walked back to the little mountain house. He stacked the wood he’d gathered against the wall beneath the window. Stepping inside, he was greeted by the warmth of the fire and a delicious scent floating on the air.

The cowboy left his snow-caked boots by the door and called out to the omnic as he entered the kitchen, “Mmm~ Somethin’ smells awful good!”  
“I hope that means it will taste excellent as well,” Zenyatta answered. He was hovering by the small stone oven, a clear and welcome sign to Jesse that he’d been baking again.

Since McCree had mentioned his love of pies, Zen had been trying to find the perfect recipe. And because his abilities only extended as far as /making/ the food, he called upon McCree to test the quality.

Once the pie was pulled from the oven and given a moment to cool, Zenyatta cut a slice and served it to Jesse. The smell of apples and cinnamon hit him like a wave; it made his mouth water.

McCree scooped up a forkful and took a bite. It was still warm and gooey, the crust and sticky filling melting together. He enjoyed a couple more bites before looking up at his omnic host. Although his plate metal face could not express it, McCree knew he was waiting expectantly.

“That’s a damn good pie, Zen,” he said.  
“But..?” the monk prompted.

Jesse swallowed another mouthful, stalling, reluctant to give a critique. Zenyatta was trying so hard, and it wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with his pies. Just minor things - one had been too dry, another far too sweet; one had so much cinnamon it practically burnt the cowboy’s tongue.

“Well…” he finally said, “This one… could use some more sugar.”  
Zenyatta hummed and nodded. “We will find the right balance,” he said.  
“‘M still gonna eat this one,” Jesse added, reaching for another slice.

———

Zenyatta kept up his trials and errors in baking for the next few days. Jesse wasn’t complaining - he got to eat as much pie as he wanted. His job as a taste tester also kept his mind off his wounded shoulder.

One evening, while McCree sat at the edge of the fireplace watching snow fall out the circular window, Zenyatta gilded in from the kitchen and presented him with a still warm slice of apple pie.

Jesse hesitated. He’d already finished one of the other attempts today, and he could still feel the dessert resting low in his stomach. But this one smelled especially good, and something in Zen’s posture said he was confident in his creation.

So Jesse took the plate and raised a forkful into his mouth. He froze with the fork still in his grip.  
“McCree?” Zenyatta tilted his robotic head, concerned.  
Until Jesse gulped down the mouthful of pie and turned to him with a huge grin.

“Zen, it’s perfect!” he said. “God, it tastes just like heaven!”  
Zenyatta’s voice took on the quality of a smiling man as he said, “I am so glad! Now I will know exactly how to make it in the future!”  
“But there’s more of it /now/, right?” McCree held up the now empty plate with a pleading look.  
“Absolutely,” Zenyatta laughed.

Despite the tightness in his belly, Jesse left nothing but crumbs in the pie tin. Zenyatta heard him mumbling to himself later as he lounged on the bed:  
“Perfect…”


End file.
